The Man Behind The Mask
by purpleumbrella
Summary: EOW: Erik finally grasps control over his depression some what anyways when he meets Amaya, an orphan ballerina at the opera populair. Romance ensues along with hopefuly interesting and humerous complications. Not a spoof. Read homepage for more.
1. Chapter 1

The Opera Populair, once one of the most prestigious opera houses in the world. The very Opera Populair that had been burnt down many years ago under mysterious circumstances, was having its second grand opening after the necessary renovations had been made. Convinced that the fire had killed their "Phantom", Missures Firman and Andre felt it safe to return to their jobs as the managers. Unfortunately, Carlotta also felt it safe to return as their Prima Dona. Never the ones to pass up such a good money making opportunity, the managers welcomed Carlotta with welcome arms. Free earplugs were distributed to all.

Christine Daae happily married Raul De Chagny, and though she loved him very much, there was always that little voice in her head that longed to be with Eric. Not that she would ever admit that to that son of a- I mean…her husband of course.

Madame and Meg Giry moved back into the opera house and continued to train the ballerinas and chorus girls. Optimistic girls and women would come to the Opera Populair everyday, and if they were to be of any use to the managers, someone would need to teach them. Thankfully, some of the old girls had stayed despite the traumatizing incident, so Madame Giry at least wasn't teaching everyone from scratch.

Yes, above ground in the opera house, things seemed to finally be back to normal. No more notes, no more "accidents", and especially no more phantom. But, deep in the opera house's cellars, Erik still lived…technically. He had long since died inside, he no longer even had strength to clean up his home. Shattered pieces of mirror still littered the ground where he had left them over a year ago. Day after day he would sit by the lake. Sit and think…and think…and think. He would think until he could think no longer and fall asleep, always hoping that he would never wake.

This is where I come in. Hi, I'm Amaya. I'd tell you my last name…if only I could remember it…but on to more important things. I was one of the ballet girls back when the whole phantom incident had occurred. You may not have noticed me before though. You see I'm a little… okay, I'm really shy. Thankfully the managers and Madame Giry were wise enough to put me in the back, where no one notices me and I can dance my heart out with out ever feeling the urge to rid myself of whatever I had eaten that day.

Some of you may ask me, do you believe the phantom is still alive? I have only one simple answer. No. Even if he had survived the fatal fire which burned down the main support beam; there's no way he could have escaped the man hunt that searched the whole building, before and after the fire and destroyed everything.

Painfully, I pulled my onyx black hair into a tight ponytail in the back of my head. (Part of being a ballerina, after years of having your hair put into buns tight enough to suffocate a piece of dust, you kind of become numb to the pain.) After that, I proceeded to twist my hair until the pressure was too much to bear. Finally, I rolled the hair around and around until a tight bun had been formed, then I reinforced it with more hair ties and bobby pins. Quickly, I looked in the mirror. A pale, gaunt woman with dark hair and green eyes looked back at me. She stared at me awkwardly through the mirror in her black leotard and itchy, light-pink tutu. The fact that she was in tights and wearing toe-shoes didn't help much either. Scowling at my reflection, I quickly rushed out of the room so that I wouldn't be late for my lessons with Madam Giry.

Few people know how hard it is to be the Prima Dona of the Opera Populair; even fewer know how hard it is to be a ballerina in any opera house. You work hard to learn a routine, memorize it, and perfect it only to stand out in the back round as the Prima Dona sings (or in Carlotta's case, screeches) their heart our for the audience. It's not really fair, but those that are truly devoted to the art don't dance for fame, they dance for the sake of dance.

Unfortunately, some dancers don't understand this concept and therefore act like complete bitches by taking their rage and frustration out on others. Meet Anna, Nichole, and (oh god) Melody. Anna has dark brown hair, light hazel eyes, and a fair skin complexion. She is also overweight, lazy, and hates to do anything that she doesn't have to do. She often skips practices due to being "sick" and never actually memorizes any dances but pretends to know what she's doing so that Madam Giry doesn't kick her out. Nichole has platinum blonde hair and big, dark, hazel eyes. Unlike her sister Anna, she's extremely skinny. However, she's a gossiper. Nichole has dirt on every single ballerina and chorus girl in the opera house. She often resorts to blackmail to get her way.

Finally we get to the worst of them all, Melody. Sure, she's pretty enough. She has strawberry blonde hair, pencil thin eyebrows, fairly skinny (but not too skinny to the jealousy of all), and deep blue-green eyes. But despite what her name may imply, her attitude is anything but beautiful. Melody's strategy for greeting new people is play nice, gain their trust, then tare them down. Thanks to her, more than half of the girls that come to the Opera Populair leave in tears. Also, she can't sing for shit. But what she lacks in tune, she makes up for in dancing grace. Her father had paid for lessons from the time she was five till he lost all of his money little more than a year ago. Unable to support his family, he sent his only family to work at the Opera Populair. (Guess who)

These bullies' nit pick at every little flaw of every single girl (or drag queen depending on the situation) until she (or he) breaks down and cries/ leaves. Together they are Tres Bitches, Bitch number one, two, and three.

"Eww, look who decided to drag her skinny little butt out of bed this morning!" Nichole spat as I entered the room. Practice wouldn't start for a good half an hour, but Madam Giry always wants us to stretch before we begin. So this usually means that Nichole and Melody (and Anna on the rare occasion that she actually comes) sit around and criticize us while the rest of us stretch. "What's the matter? Too stupid to talk?" She then did the most disgusting and annoying thing I could think of. She pursed her lips and sucked on her teeth with a loud, disgusting "_Smack!_" I visibly cringed at the sound. It was so disgusting I couldn't help it.

"Oh Nichole don't be so mean, its not little Amaya's fault she's so stupid. It probrobly just comes with being ugly!" Melody countered and then they both laughed together in unison. Third most annoying thing about Tres Bitches (the first is their rudeness and the second is the, oh god, sucking of the teeth) is their laughter. Until they came along, I never thought it was possible for a group to laugh in unison, but they do just that. The sit there and (well its more of a sequence of squeals really) laugh, breath, move together in perfect unison.

It would be amazing if it weren't so annoying.

I just ignored them as I walked up to the metal bar that came up to my chest. It didn't really affect me anymore. I didn't understand how they found that joke funny anymore. They'd been using the same greeting ever since they deemed me "too ugly and weird" to be one of them. (Which was a long time ago.) Sighing, I began my daily exercise.

I had just finished when Madame Giry walked into the room. She looked especially flustered this morning and as she stomped past me I thought I might have heard her angrily mumbling something like "…should at least get up…" and "…moping around like a pansy…" A few minutes later she was in front of the class. Her hair was slightly wild and her eyes still held an angered look. "Practice is cancelled for this morning! Get out! All of you!"

Surprised, but unwilling to see what Madame Giry would do if they disobeyed, the ballerinas walked out one by one. Each one wondering what she was going to do for the rest of the day now that their schedule had been so suddenly cleared.

I for one knew what I was going to do. Carlotta's dog had caught some sort of disease, so she was away at the vet. Also, Missures Firman and Andre were out on "business" (which usually means their trying to get another patron), the maids had gone on vacation, and now neither the ballerinas nor the chorus girls needed the stage. Meaning, I had it all to myself.

Now, I know I said I was shy, but when I get the chance I love being out alone on stage. There, no audience can make me queasy, no bitch can bring me down, and I can dance or sing as much as I like without ever having to stop when I make a mistake, though I usually do anyways.

After making sure no one was around, I tiptoed around the curtain. The windows were closed and none of the lights were on, I was completely blind. I smiled, "Just the way I like it…" I whispered. Then, I danced. I let my emotions free as I spun, leapt, bent, and pointed along with an imaginary melody conducted by a make-believe mistro. I always loved to dance, there was something about it that always made the bad times…not so bad. But if there's anything I love more than dancing, it's singing. And after I ended my dance, I began to sing a song that came once from a dream I had had.

As I sang, I pictured a woman, slowly rocking in a chair by the fireside in a room with bare walls. She was fairly young, but stress had made her look much older than she actually was. Next to her was a young child, who listened to the woman intently.

There is a castle on a cloud,  
I like to go there in my sleep,  
Aren't any floors for me to sweep,  
Not in my castle on a cloud.  
There is a room that's full of toys,  
There are a hundred boys and girls.  
Nobody shouts or talks too loud,  
Not in my castle on a cloud.  
There is a lady all in white,  
Holds me and sings a lullaby,  
She's nice to see and she's soft to touch,  
She says, "Cosette, I love you very much!"  
There is a place where no one's lost,  
there a place where no one cries,  
Crying, at all, is not allowed,  
Not in my castle on a cloud.

(Disclaimer: This is the song Castle On A Cloud from La Miserables. I do not own the song or any of the right to the song, I'm just having the character sing it as it relates to the story in some ways.)

I sighed, the dream had seemed so pleasant…so familiar. Yet, I did not know why. The way the woman's voice carried through out the empty room and the way that the child had looked up at her mother so admiringly had haunted me ever since I had dreamed it up not that long ago.

**With Erik**

…I have been forced out of my own home…

I had once again been dreaming of Christine by the lake when suddenly Madame Giry came stomping in. Though you would never think by looking at her, Madame Giry is STRONG. Using the strength that seemingly comes from nowhere she yells at me.

"Get off your moping ass for just an hour and walk around! It make me sick to see you just lie here! Have you even seen yourself?" She asked crossly. Unfortunately I knew the state of my appearance. For days on end I had not had the will to eat, groom, or even make myself look slightly presentable. I knew by looking into the murky water, as I had been doing everyday, that my eyes had become bloodshot, I was dangerously thin, my skin had become a pastely white, I was unshaven, my hair had become matted to no end, and I COULD NOT find my mask…so of course my entire face was showing. Grimly, I nodded my head.

"Don't just sit there and nod your head. I've already taken the liberty of sending everyone away for the day. The entire building is deserted. So I beg of you Erik," her voice became softer, kinder. Confused, I looked up to see why she was no longer yelling. To my surprise, I saw concern and worry not only in her eyes, but also across the rest of her face. "Please just get out of here, if only for a while. Here," she handed me a bag. "In here there are several items with which I think you could use." And with that, she walked through one of the many secret passageways.

In the bag were a number of items. A small, warm custard filled pastry which smelled so delicious I gobbled it down without even tasting it, a razor with which I shaved off my beard that had begun to grow, A comb that I used to tame my wild hair, and…

I picked up the smooth, familiar piece of porcelain. "My mask…" I whispered. It was then that I made my decision. No longer would I mope over a love that could never have been mine. No longer will I waste away as the endless days pass me by. No longer would I stand in the shadow of my deformity. "I am Erik, phantom of the opera, and no one will take my pride or dignity away from me ever again. I give my heart to no one, especially not _her_." I dumped all my pictures of Christine into the lake, along with the manikin and the diorama of the opera's stage. "I am Erik," I repeated once again as I took my most prized possession, her ring, from my finger and watched as it slowly floated down to the bottom of the murky water. "I love no one."


	2. Chapter 2

ERIKS POV 

The Opera Populair hadn't changed much since I had last seen it. The majestic ceiling still held the same heavenly pattern, the golden statues were as nude and shiny as ever, and the seats still looked a comfy red and reeked so badly of cigar smoke that I could smell it up in the rafters. I looked down to the stage. The managers must have been paying the maids good money; the stage had been polished and waxed so many times and so thoroughly that I could see my reflection in the shiny surface.

A sound disturbed my private musings. _Thunk, thunk, thunk. _I recognized the sound as footsteps. However, not just any footsteps. The sound had the distinctive sound of a light ballerina footstep in toe-shoes upon a wooden stage. Curiously, I looked down upon the stage only to find that I wasn't alone. One of the dancers had wandered on stage, which made me even more curious. Most of the dancers here were like English schoolgirls: they were never without friends, admirers, or a mirror. But this one was here all alone. Besides that, hadn't Madame Giry told me that she had sent the girls away just this morning?

More _thunk_ sounds coming from the stage caught my attention and shifted my attention back to my unknowing companion. Even though my eyes were well adjusted to the darkness, I could barely see what she was doing. Thanks to her pale skin, I was able to tell that she was dancing, but I could only make out the very dramatic movements (which she did very little of). This didn't entertain me very much. Her dancing was mediocre at best. Though graceful, and emotional, she was missing that extra something that could make it worth noticing. So, with nothing else to occupy my mind, I began walking away, muttering to myself. "I should tell Madame Giry to check next time before she says that 'everyone' was gone. Though she's more of an annoyance, if something-"

I cut my sentence short, I had too. An angel was singing somewhere, very close to me. The sound ripped at my heart, for it was full of sadness and longing. I looked up at the ceiling, half expecting to see the small cherubs singing to me. However, when they remained still and solemn, I listened more to find the source of the sound. 'No,' I corrected myself in thought. 'Angels would not sing so softly, if they did, no one would hear them.' Slowly, I looked down towards the stage. The dancer was still down there, had she also heard the sound? She had suddenly gotten so still, so it was a possibility. As quickly as I could without making my presence known, I moved to the nearest light and turned it on.

What I saw made my breath catch in my throat.

Sure she wasn't that much to look at. She was gaunt and her pale skin contrasted against her ebony hair and dark leotard. But when the spotlight hit her, it was as if she was a different person. The light hit her skin perfectly and made it look not as pale, but also like it was radiating it's own unique light. She was sitting on the edge of the stage, eyes closed and…_ singing?_

It was true. A heavenly sound came from this small creature, so heavenly, that I kept expecting for her to grow pure, white feathery wings and fly off to the pearly gates of her final resting place. Her voice was pure, and completely hers. It was modest, and free of any extra notes added through vanity as some girls do. But most of all, it made everything around her beautiful.

The desolate, dull opera house that had been my home and prison suddenly brightened up with her voice. Gold shined more radiant than ever and colors brightened to their fullest. Even the lights seemed to dull in embarrassment from how brightly her skin glowed.

I stood in shock as I listened. However, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't make out what the young girl's words were. 'She's singing too softly!' I thought crossly. 'I can't hear a blasted thing she's singing!' I sighed aloud.

'You know,' a small voice in the back of my head whispered. 'You could teach her to be louder, you know how to…'

"No." I interrupted myself. "You know what happened last time. Also, what fool would accept lessons from a monster?" I sighed at the truthfulness of my thoughts. It supported my cause, but it didn't mean that I had to like it.

'She doesn't have to see your face.' The voice whispered to me. 'You were able to teach _her_ without her seeing your face. Just don't make the mistake of falling for her or allowing her to see you.'

I looked down at the stage, though not really seeing it. 'Though that is true, I don't want to take the risk. Besides…' I looked towards the girl. 'Wait… where'd she go?' Frantically, I looked around for her only to come to the conclusion that she had left the stage while I was engaged with my private musings.

I turned off the light and prepared to leave, but a small crash somewhere to my left startled me. "Hello?" a voice called. "Who's up here?"

**AMAYA'S POV**

I sat there for a while longer, still in the grip of the beautiful song. 'God I wish I could only remember where I've heard this before the dream… then again, I would be glad to remember anything." I chuckled slightly at my own stupidity. It had been little over a decade since I came to live at the Opera Populair; if I hadn't remembered anything thus far, I most likely wont ever remember the rest of my past. "I should just be happy that I remember something and get on with my life."

"I should get up…" I opened my eyes only to close them tight again. "Darn light! Right in my eye… wait a second. Wasn't it pitch black when I came in here?" Sure enough, one of the spotlights up in the rafters was on and aimed right down at me, and it was bright. Holding my hand at the level of my eyes to shield them from the light, I looked down at the stage to rely upon its shiny surface to see if whom ever had turned on the light was still there without blinding myself.

At first glance I didn't see anything, but as I stared closer at the reflection, I could just make out a white face right by the light. "No, not a face," I realized. "Its… a mask?" Quietly, I crept to the back of the stage and climbed the steps that lead up to that section of the rafters. Using the one light to guide me, I walked as well as I could on the rickety rafters. I most likely would have gotten a lot farther, if the light hadn't suddenly shut off. Without any way to see where I was going, it goes without saying that I was going to fall on my uncoordinated butt.

"Ow…" I managed to whisper before I heard a rustling somewhere ahead of me. "Hello?" I called, "Who's up here?" I listened again, only this time I heard the swish of a cloak and hurried footsteps. "Wait!" As quick as I could, I got up and blindly made my way over to the light. However, I was too late, whomever had been here before had left. The only evidence that someone had been here at all was that the rafter rail was still warm and a very slight trace of the scent of roses.

Giving up, I started to walk away… only to trip on cord for one of the lights. Cursing slightly, I got up and actually turned on the light. "Maybe now I could see enough to find a lantern or something…" Something sitting on the light caught my attention, an envelope addressed to "Girl". I looked around, no other girl (or living being for that matter) was around. And I was pretty sure that this wasn't here a second ago when I was here first. Turning it over, a skull-shaped wax seal met my curious eyes. Though many would have taken this as a bad omen, I ignored the nagging feeling telling me "this is a bad idea" and broke the seal. Inside was a letter made of old, yellowed parchment and in blood red ink the words:

Prima Dona's quarters, 12 o'clock midnight.

You show up, I'll get rid of the cow.

**Yours truly,**

**O.G.**

(If you can't read it: Prima Dona's quarters, 12 o'clock midnight. You show up, I'll get rid of the cow. Yours truly, O.G.)

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "O.G.?" I whispered to myself, "Who the hell is O.G.?" Still perplexed by the strange letter, I found a lantern and carefully made my way down from the rafters.

Missures Firman and Andre 

"I say Andre, this may be our richest prospect yet!" Firman slurred as he poured himself and his companion another glass of champagne.

"And best of all Firman," Andre chuckled as he took yet another sip of his alcohol. "There's no need to bribe or beg a man who loves opera!"

"A toast to Missure De Fleur!" Both shared in the ensuing laughter and then continued to babble nonsense to each other. Drink by drink, the two steadily drank themselves to a point where everything was funny, no matter what it was. It got so bad, some one could probably come in and tell them that the building was on fire… again, and they would probably die laughing. Only one thing could possibly sober them up at the moment. The one thing that Firman and Andre dreaded the most…the very thing that happened next.

Neither of the drunken fools noticed it at first, but eventually both became silent as an envelope slowly fluttered down seemingly from nowhere. They didn't have to check the seal to know that it was in the shape of a skull, the trademark of their worst nightmare.

"Firman…it can't be…" Andre sputtered. "It just can't be. He's dead! Gone!" Despite Andre's accusations the letter landed softly on their desk, right between the two men. With the back facing up, the men could see that it was addressed to both of them.

With trembling fingers Firman took the envelope, broke the seal, (nearly wet his pants) and took out the letter. "Missures Firman and Andre," he read aloud. "I thought I should take this time to announce that, unlike many of you had thought, I am not dead and/or dieing. Actually, I'm in perfect health and I have decided that my brief respite has been long enough." Firman's face began to turn a slight shade of purple as he read the next sentence. "Of course now that I'm back, I do expect for my salary to be paid. Twenty Francs a month sounds about accurate does it not? For safety measures of course. Yours truly, O.G."

"What is this?" Andre questioned aloud, "Some sort of joke? If so it is most certainly not funny!"

"It must be a joke." Firman reasoned. "There is no possible way that bastard could have survived. The custodial staff must be doing this because we cut their salary again."

With that said, both men relaxed instantly and returned to their drunken moods. Laughing at their own cowardice, the men began to joke and plot revenge. "Honestly Andre, you should have seen the look on your face!"

"My face? Firman you were turning purple! I was afraid you were going to die of fear on the spot!"

"Honestly I thought both of your reactions were quite comical. But I'm quite glad that you think it funny now." A calm voice radiated from nowhere.

Both men continued to laugh. But slowly, as they realized the voice was not their own, they began to quiet down (and Firman really did wet his pants slightly this time). Andre let out a strangled cry, and Firman's face began to change to the color of the yellowed parchment of the letter, which still sat on the table. The disembodied voice began to laugh, both men fled the room.

**Back to Amaya**

Though I understood perfectly that following the instructions of the mysterious letter was probably not the smartest thing I've ever done, I couldn't help myself. Through out the rest of the day, my mind kept lingering back to the letter that sat on my dresser by my bed. I read the brief sentences over and over again, but it still made little sense to me. Obviously whoever had written the note had wanted me to be at the Prima Dona's quarters at midnight saying that they would get rid of Carlotta. (Who hasn't called her a cow?) The only thing I do not understand is why the writer would want me to be there. It would probably help if I knew who the writer was in the first place too. The question plagued me ever since I had read the mysterious letter. Who wrote it? Why me?

So that's what I was doing at 11:58 pm in the Prima Dona's quarters. True to his/her word, Carlotta didn't seem to be anywhere around. Though that didn't seem to help the fact that sitting alone in an opera house at night is extremely creepy. Things in the old building seemed to creak just as I was getting comfortable in the over stuffed chair. Plus there's the feeling of always being watched that sends shivers down my spine and gives me goose bumps.

The clock by the vanity mirror struck midnight. With every chime from the clock I lost more and more of my resolve. When the clock chimed for the final time I stood up to leave. "What was I thinking? I know better than to obey strange letters!" I was about to open the door knob, but a haunting voice called me back into the room.

_Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation  
Darkness wakes and stirs imagination  
Silently the senses abandon their defenses  
Helpless to resist the notes I write  
For I compose the music of the night_

I walked toward where I heard the haunting sound, only to find it coming from somewhere behind the walls. Oh how I longed to be a ghost at that moment, just so that I could phase through these solid obstructions and drift along with the depressingly beautiful voice.

_Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor  
Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender  
Hearing is believing, music is deceiving  
Hard as lightning, soft as candlelight  
Dare you trust the music of the night_

_Close your eyes for your eyes will only tell the truth  
And the truth isn't what you want to see  
In the dark it is easy to pretend  
That the truth is what it ought to be_

_Softly, deftly, music shall caress you  
Hear it, feel it secretly possess you  
Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind  
In this darkness which you know you cannot fight  
The darkness of the music of the night_

_Close your eyes, start a journey to a strange new world  
Leave the thoughts of the world you knew before  
Close your eyes and let music set you free  
Only then can you belong to me_

_Floating, falling, sweet intoxication  
Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation  
Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in  
To the power of the music that I write  
The power of the music of the night_

(Version #2 of Music of the Night… if you don't know where the original song is from then I don't understand why you're reading this. It took me forever to find these lyrics so please enjoy and don't flame me saying that these aren't the correct lyrics.)

By the time the beautiful music had finished I sat in a corner between the wall that held the haunting voice and another less important wall. The voice spoke to me then. "Child, you do not know me, but I can see that you enjoy music with a passion possibly equal to my own." The voice paused, as if it were thinking. "Tell me Child, what is your name?"

"Amaya." I answered without a single thought. The voice seemed to chase away any inhibitions I had about talking to the creepy (yet dreamy) voice from nowhere.

"Amaya, a beautifully dark name. Amaya, would you like for me to teach you to sing? I've heard your voice, one of the most beautiful voices I have ever heard. Despite how great it is, would you like me to teach you to be even better? Do you trust this voice to make you great?"

"…I do."


	3. Chapter 3

Amaya's POV

"How dare you step on my dress you little ingrate! Don't you know who I am?!" Carlotta interrupted rehearsal yet again as one of the younger, more inexperienced dancers tripped

and accidentally trod on the diva's gown. In the dancers defense it had not been her fault. Even as I watched, Melody innocently pulled back her leg from where it had somehow

ended up in the young girl's way. "I am la Carlotta!" She screeched. "Why do you not respect me? Why does no body respect me?"

I rolled my eyes. Carlotta brought up this argument every rehearsal, and it always ended the same way. "Madame, everyone respects you! You are la Carlotta!" Andre cried from

his seat in the audience. Despite the fact that this argument has been repeated word for word several times before, his voice still had a tone of urgency in it.

"No! Nobody respects me!" She declared while waving her arms in a dramatic fashion. And so it began yet again, the argument that started with Carlotta being pissed off and ended

with her getting a fatter paycheck (which as the managers quickly realized was the easiest way to calm her down.)

'Yet it was so hard to give the Opera Ghost twenty thousand francs a month?' I thoughtcynically to myself as I heard the manager's estimate for Carlotta's next payment. I had to

fight down my gag reflex as I saw her blush in fake modesty and try to smooth everything over with what I'm guessing was supposed to be a charming smile and empty "thank

you"s. She truly was a terrible actress.

However, despite being an overall pain, Carlotta had (for once) served a purpose. Her arguing had gotten the managers so worked up that they cancelled the rest of practice and left

everyone to do as they pleased. Excitedly, I hurried up to the dormitories and changed into a simple, shapeless, gray-blue gown. 'He truly is a genius!' I thought and giggled slightly.

As fast as I could I hurried down to the small gothic chapel that the voice I had come to know and cherish led me to after our first encounter.

"You were right!" I exclaimed as soon as I entered the room. I didn't bother going through the whole process of checking to make sure he was there first. After a while I was able

to sense if he was near. It's kind of hard to explain… it's like I had gotten so used to his presence that when he wasn't around it felt like something was missing, something that

automatically came back in his presence. "You were right Master, the managers were so exasperated by Carlotta that they ended practice early!" I sat down near the stained glass

window and caught my breath. 'I am never running all the way here ever again!' I thought to myself as I felt the beginning of a cramp in my side. "But how did you know? They

don't usually do this, even when Carlotta starts up the respect argument."

Light laughter could be heard, coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. My breath caught in my throat and I could feel my heart beating more rapidly against my chest at

the sound. "Easy my dear pupil." The voice said, amusement clear in its tone. "After Carlottamanaged to take more money from them, supervising practice should have been the

least of their problems. They have a lot to do today," the voice explained with an air of mystery in the last sentence.

It had almost been almost two months since I had first heard that unbelievable voice, yet every time I heard it I felt as if I were still hearing it for the first time. True to his word (for

I'm assuming the voice belongs to a man), we would meet in the little chapel twice a week and he would teach me to sing. Though he did teach me many new tactics for singing

certain songs, he seemed to focus more on volume. When I sang to myself I usually sang as soft as I could so noone would hear me, it was hard at first to sing even just a little bit

louder without my voice cracking. Despite the little progress I had made in the volume department, he was always gentleand patient. It could be maddening at times. I always felt like

screaming out to the heavenly voice: "Why me? I'm a failure! You could find a better student anywhere!!!" But he somehow always found a way to make me feel special and

wanted, something I haven't felt for a long time.

"So what did you want to do today?" I asked staring at the ground below. "You said sothe other day that you had something special planned if practice should end early." I tried

and failed to keep the excitement out of my voice. I had been hoping since very early this morningfor practice to end early, and now that my hopes have come true I couldn't help

but for my curiosity to get the better of me.

He laughed again, this time more whole-heartedly. "I see you have been giving this a lot of thought. Let me guess, you didn't get much sleep last night because you were up half the

night wondering?" Loud laughter could be heard as I shifted uncomfortably. "You can rest for a while if you'd like, go ahead and lie down."

"No!" I exclaimed in a slight panic. "I want to see the surpri…i…i…" the yawn I had been holding all day finally came out as I began to feel exactly how tired I truly was. He

laughed again, loud and long. This time I couldn't help but chuckle lightly along with him. "Stop laughing at me," I weakly chided. "Besides…" I began as his laughter didn't stop but

grew louder and with more force. "If I were to rest here I would wake with such a pain in my neck that I wouldn't be able to move comfortably during practice tomorrow morning."

"Hmm…" The voice sounded as if it were truly in thought. It might just have been that I was tired, but his voice seemed to become less echo-y. "I think I might have a solution for

that." I could hear him move around, but in my sleepy state I could not tell what direction he was headed. "Close your eyes and lean back, do not turn around." I did as he

commanded without question. Instead of coming in contact with the cold hard wall as I had expected, I leaned against something softer and a lot warmer. Surprised, I started to

turn around, but a something stopped my head from moving. 'Leather?' I thought as what I was guessing to be a leather-gloved hand moved my head foreword again.

I felt the cold breath on my ear before I heard his heavenly voice whisper a reminder. "Do not turn around." I shivered slightly and was about to get up when he began to hum. I

don't know how he did it, but a long with his voice I slowly relaxed and closed my eyes.

'No…' my mind began to wander. 'I don't want to sleep yet. I want to get up… no I don't, this is too comfortable." I inhaled deeply then let out a sigh. 'He smells like roses…'

Erik's POV

'This is not good! This is very, very not good! This is the very definition of NOT GOOD!!!' Thoughts such as these raced through my mind as I gently held the sleeping girl in my

arms. Subconsciously, I began stroking her hair as I nervously pondered the situation. Obviously I had made my move without thinking. When I moved from my hiding place I

had intended to go fetch some pillows and perhaps a blanket from underground. However, my body obviously had other intentions as it gently slid behind her on the windowsill.

Being this close to her my brain seemed to move slower than usual. My mouth moved and spoke words I would have normally never risked. But worst of all, I was enjoying

everything that was happening.

I couldn't deny my growing adoration for this small yet spunky girl. "A teacher's love towards a student." I told myself. "Or at the most the way a father would love a daughter." I'd

more than love to say that I completely believed myself. At least the more I said it the more it seemed true. 'But then something like this had to happen!' I scolded myself. Just then I

noticed that I had been stroking her hair and simultaneously bringing her head closer into my chest. 'Stop before you do something stupid!' I practically screamed inside my

head, but my hands seemed to have a life of their own as they completely ignored my orders and continued as they were doing.

Just like before, unbidden thoughts forced their way into my head before I had a chance to stop them. 'Her hair is so soft, it's like silk...' I sighed realizing that I wasn't going to get

any peace unless I returned to the shadows where I had previously been hiding, no matter how much I didn't want to.

I looked down at the girl resting against my chest; her face was so peaceful I found I couldn't move an inch for fear of disturbing it. I looked out the window, wincing from the

brightness of the setting sun. 'We can still rest for a few minutes.' I judged by the position of the sun against the sky. 'They must see her before she sees them or the whole plan will

be ruined anyway.' I looked back down at her peaceful expression and ignored the sudden stab of pain in my heart as I thought of another girl whose peaceful expression I had

watched just as attentively as she dreamt. "I don't love Christine anymore." I whispered to myself, hoping to strengthen my resolve. Despite my words one tear slipped out, then

another, and before I knew it I was quietly sobbing once again.

"Shh…" I looked down startled as Amaya shushed me, only to find that she was still asleep. She moved her hand over to my shoulder and reassuringly stroked my arm. "Don't

cry." She murmured again, still sleeping. 'I wonder what she's dreaming about.' I thought to myself as the young girl settled back into me in a more comfortable position. I would

have to be more careful now when waking her, one wrong move and she'd get an eyeful of mask. She may be a bright girl for her age, but I didn't think she'd even entertained the

thought of her tutor with the voice of an angel being the rumored Phantom with the face of death.

I didn't even notice how easy it was for her to stop my tears.

Amaya's POV

I could feel myself drifting slowly back into consciousness as something shook my shoulder ever so lightly. "Come now little one, time to get up." The meaning of the words was lost

as his heavenly voice only made me want to sleep more.

"Five more minutes…" I grumbled as I shifted into a more comfortable position. _Thump __thump… thump thump…_Even this sound, strange as it was to me at the moment, seemed

to me soothing me back into dreamland. I grabbed something in front of me. Whatever it was it was long and hard, but also so comfortable to squeeze…

_Thump thump thump thump thump…_the noise was more frequent now and it slightly brought me back to reality. 'What is it? Where was I again? What was I doing?' The thing I

had been holding before pulled itself out of my grasp. I felt whatever I was sleeping on bend down towards my head, I shivered as I felt a brush of cold air on my ear. "If you do not

get up soon," the lulling voice whispered. "You will miss the surprise."

'…surprise?'

"No!" I stood up so quickly I could already feel myself get dizzy, but I didn't care. It all came rushing back to me. Practice, the voice, me falling asleep in… "I am not going to miss

this! I was really looking foreword to it!" I stammered and rambled on, aware of the slight blush creeping onto my face. "Please Master, tell me what-" I turned around, only to find

him gone. "Where?"

His light laughter echoed around the chapel as he once again took delight in not only being hidden from the world, but at my confusion of how a man could move so quickly. "Do not

worry young one, you won't miss the surprise." He chuckled again as I let out an audible sigh of relief. "I woke you a little early so that you could have some extra time to straighten

yourself out."

I looked at myself in the mirror, (I don't care if the chapel had a mirror in it or not, it does now!) and groaned. My hair, which had been particularly arduous that morning, was once

again in a tangled mess; my dress was in disarray, my eyes were pink and puffy, and I gave off the overall look of a drunk. I cursed under my breath as I ran to my room to

fix myself.

(5 minutes later)

"Okay…" I whispered to myself as I plopped down on my cot holding my side. "This time I mean it… I'm **never** running all the way here ever again." Slightly panting still, I took

my brush from the desk and began to brush out my tangled ebony hair. It was a bit easier than it had been this morning thankfully, but nonetheless annoying. After that was over, I

went to my closet and picked out a different dress.

The dress I chose was simple, though a bit more elegant than the last. It was a dark green with just a tinge of blue in it. The top half was a corset with black strings and held on to my

shoulders by half an inch straps. The bottom half was a long skirt that went down to my ankle and had a black lace trimming on the bottom.

I didn't even bother with the thought of petticoats, and the only jewelry I wore was a long, thin, silver chain from which held a decently sized locket. I've had the locket since before

I could remember (meaning I was wearing it when I arrived at the Opera Populair, which is the first thing I remember anyway) and for the ten years that I can remember, I haven't

been able to open it. It stopped bothering me after a year or two so today was no different as I dropped it down the front of my dress so that only the chain was visible. Quickly

slipping on some dark green shoes, I hurried out into the hall and onward… following the presence of my strange teacher. "Don't forget your act and motivation…" he advised

ominously as he continued swiftly ahead of me.

"Why is acting important in this surprise? What is the surprise?"

"… You'll see…" I could actually hear and feel the teasing smirk upon his face. Rolling my eyes, I continued to follow him. He laughed, as usual.

**MESSIEURS FIRMAN AND ANDRE'S POV**

Neither of the men's mornings had started out very smoothly. Both had found a very unwelcome letter in their mail containing very detailed and very possible threats. Add that to the

fact that they had already been stressed out because of a new guest who was supposed to arrive the same day as the darned phantom's threats.

Never the less, the two managers continued on with their days as scheduled… for the first hour of work. Both agreed that after Carlotta's outburst that they would need more time

to figure out how they were going to pay her without upsetting too many of the other workers, so they cancelled practice early and began to make arrangements for the day that

complied with both the phantoms wish and their own needs.

Currently, it was 11:15 am and the managers were not so patiently waiting by the front doors. "Where is he?" Monsieur Andre cried out as he glanced nervously at the clock. "At

this rate we will have to skip half the tour and skip straight to the stage!"

"Patience Andre," Firman comforted his business partner. "He'll be here eventually, and if we have to skip straight to the stage than so be it, it's the most exciting part of the tour

anyways." But of course, Andre did not calm down as Firman had hoped.

His worry was for naught however, for even as Firman continued to calm the fretting Andre, a magnificent black carriage arrived in the courtyard. Once the excited white horses had

finally come to a stop, the coach driver quickly went round to the door to open it for the carriage's sole inhabitant. Out stepped a man who could only be described as sinfully

beautiful.

His skin was very tanned from staying out sailing, hunting, riding, and whatever else young Michael De Fleur wished to do outside. His oh so obviously soft lips were always curved

in a light smile, and his warm hazel eyes could make even the most conservative of nuns feint with but a glance. His normally wild and dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail at the

nape of his neck and though he didn't dress in the latest of fashions (as many men of his rank did) his clothes suited his robust appearance very,very,very well.

Yes, Monsieur De Fleur was one of the luckiest men alive. He was born into the wealthy class (his father was a successful merchant) and had acquired even more wealth through his

own successful investments. Not only had he acquired wealth easily, but he had also done so quickly. The young man was only in his twenties and he was already able to become

the Opera Populair's patron. (Even more astounding was the fact that he had done so on his complete own, all of his father's money and business had fallen into the hands of his

elder brother Jean Pier De Fleur, who let it fall to ruin and eventually fell into debt.)

Michael was a killer businessman; he could normally smell a flop from a mile away. However he must have either let his love for music cloud his senses, been **very** optimistic, or not

heard and/or believed in the Populair's… residential problem. No matter what the reason… he was now here. And so after hurried introductions by the (by now) frantic managers,

his tour began.

"Here we have the stage, where the audience can watch the fruits of our labor unfold into art." Firman stated as poetically as he could. Despite his bad acting, Michael was obviously

as excited as a rich toddler in a candy store.

He reached out his hand and touched the plush red seats. "Marvelous…" he softly exclaimed as he felt how comfortable the seats must be. "It's hard to believe that you would even

need a patron, everything here is so wondrous you'd think people would kill just to get a mediocre seat in the worst spot possible." A confused expression crossed the young man's

face as he thought up a question he had not even bothered to ask himself before. "Why is it that you need a patron? Shouldn't the money that the seats require be enough for you to

comfortably work?"

The men gaped open mouthed at the young man. "Have you really not heard of the phantom that haunts the Opera Populaire? The stories of horror, murder, and monstrosity ever so

faul?" Andre asked. (He was now very glad that he had talked with Jean Pier De Fleur. According to the elder brother, Michael loved tales of wonder almost as much as he loved

music.)

"Yes but the face of death is but a myth, is it not?"

As if on cue, a bone-chilling laugh emitted from everywhere and nowhere all at once. A distinct difference could be seen between the three men now. While Michael had changed his

stance from that of a relaxed man to that of a man on the hunt… Firman and Andre were trying to cower behind the other in order to somehow escape the wrath of the cruel voice.

"A myth am I? I can assure you Monsieur, that I am most real." A long pause. "You there, ballet rat! Come out from behind that curtain or you shall feel the killing caress of my

lasso!"

All men's eyes turned on the poor scared little girl who quickly ran to the center stage, looking about her in fear. She did not even seem to have seen them sitting in the audience, but

immediately began to run towards the exit on the other side. The lights quickly went out, leaving all but one blind. A bright light was suddenly flashed on stage to where the girl stood.

She shadowed her eyes from the bright light, but was still unable to see or move because of it. "Now I shall show you that all obey me, for if you don't there is a price." Now the

voice was in between Andre and Michael and was speaking quite calmly. Both men jumped extremely high.

**SOMEONES POV**

He cleared his throat, then exclaimed "Now girl, sing or it shall be the end of you!"

"What is it you wish for me to sing Monsieur?" The girl visibly trembled with fright, but a spark of curiosity still managed to make its way into her eyes. Michael De Fleur began to

choke somewhat, not that anyone paid attention to that.

"The first thing that comes to heart!" The voice proclaimed. Then, as if as a side note, he leaned towards Firman, Andre, and Michael and whispered, "You might want to sit down

for this, I see all and I know her talent." Firman and Andre plopped down immediately, Michael remained standing though he did not remain that way for long. As soon as her voice

had reached his ears he had no choice but to sit from shock.

**AMAYA'S POV** (yeah I know it was short… deal with it)

My masters last bit advice rang through my head as I fake-trembled on stage. 'Act scared, do what your told, don't ask questions.' Despite his most helpful advise… I still had no

idea what this surprise was that he had planned for me. Don't get me wrong, I trust him with my life, but there was something very fishy about this situation that I didn't like very

much. Never the less, I chose the first song that came to mind like he said, and sang to the full extent of my abilities.

_A New Life __–_

_What I wouldn't give _

_to__ have a new life!_

_One thing I have learned _

_as__ I go through life:_

_Nothing is for free _

_along__ the way!_

_A new start -_

_That's the thing I need,_

_To give me new heart -_

_Half a chance in life_

_To find a new part,_

_Just a simple role _

_That I can play.__A new hope -_

_Something to convince me_

_to__ renew hope!_

_A new day, _

_Bright enough _

_to__ help me find my way!__A new chance -_

_One that maybe has_

_a touch of romance._

_Where can it be, _

_the chance for me?__A new dream -_

_I have one I know_

_that__ very few dream!_

_I would like to see _

_that__ overdue dream -_

_Even though _

_it__ never may come true!_

_A new love -_

_Though I know there's no _

_Such thing as true love -_

_Even so, _

_Although I never knew love,_

_Still I feel that _

_One dream is my due!__A new world -_

_This one thing I want _

_to__ ask of you, world -_

_Once! - Before it's time _

_to__ say adieu, world!_

_One sweet chance to _

_prove__ the cynics wrong!__A new life -_

_More and more, I'm sure,_

_As I go through life,_

_Just to play the game -,_

_And to pursue life -_

_Just to share its pleasures,_

_And belong! -_

_That's what I've been here for_

_All along!_

_Each day's _

_a__ brand new life!_

(A New Life from Dr.Jekyll and Mr.Hyde, sung by the character Lucy. I love the book and was so excited when I found out it was a musical… even if it's been a musical for way

longer than I've been alive and I just never had the brains to look for it. The songs are amazing, and I'll definitely be using them more in the story. Just how much more you'll have to

find out…)

I took a deep breath like I always do after losing myself in song. This song didn't have as much of a grip on me as some others do, but I loved it none the less. I grinned slightly to

myself and turned my face upwards to give him a happy smile, but several things happened a once. The spot light turned off, the regular lights flicked back on, and I saw the

managers along with a **stranger** who were all sitting staring at the stage open mouthed. Obviously they had been here for my little 'surprise performance.' My smile faded as I stared

just as shocked back at them. 'How did they get there?!'

From somewhere behind me, I heard a light chuckle and the swish of a cloak. Finally, all the pieces of my little 'surprise' were put together. I turned around and took an angry step

towards where I sensed he was, but an unmistakable cough caught my attention. Looking around, I saw Monsieur Firman gesturing with his hand to come and talk with them.

…

…

'Oh yeah… I'm going to kill him.'


	4. Chapter 4

**(If you have any questions, review or look on profile to see if it's already answered.)**

**Amaya's POV**

Two or three years ago my caretaker, the woman who took me in and cared for me when I first came to the opera house, said she was leaving for a very long time. In that one moment, I felt more unpleasant emotions all at once than I had ever felt in my entire known life. I cried, screamed, and had a nervous breakdown all at once. Yet even all that couldn't compare to the emotional turmoil I was carrying inside me at the moment.

Were it not for the bench outside Messieurs Firman and Andre's office, I surely would have feinted. The yelling inside didn't do anything to help my nerves. 'Couldn't they just forget this whole thing ever happened? So I sang, big deal. It's an opera house!' I sighed aloud and held my head. So many emotions… too many emotions! Anger, fear, belligerence, sadness, confusion… all in constant battle and turmoil, boiling to the surface of my brain.

After what seemed like hours (though in reality might have only been a few minutes), the door finally opened and out popped the face of the stranger from earlier. He smiled a very friendly smile and stepped out of the office precariously, like he was trying to escape with out letting the others know. "Good evening, my name is Monsieur De Fleur," **(A/N: OMG!!! I didn't realize until now that it almost rhymes!!! XD**** Ahahahahaha!! Okay sorry, back to the story!)** He said with an extravagant bow. Tilting his head up, he added "May I have the pleasure of knowing your name as well?"

"Um… my name's um… um…" The way the light caught his eyes was, in a word, mesmerizing. Sparkling spheres illuminated the dark hazel color and seemed to reflect off of their radiant surface like fireflies at midnight. The way that, despite their dark color, they showed such depth and emotion that I-

"Madame… Um? That's a very err… unique sort of name?" The emotion in his eyes changed from kind and friendly to very confused and skeptical. Yet even with those negative emotions his eyes, he made them look good.

Mortified (and entranced) I shook myself out of my stupor and corrected him softly. "My name is Amaya… just Amaya. No Madame." I looked away in embarrassment. There's no way I could face this intoxicating stranger now. Not after being such an idiot that I forgot my own name. He probably thought I was some sort of uneducated street rat now.

An awkward silence then ensued… followed by Monsieur De Fleur promptly laughing so hard that tears came out of his eyes. I stared up at him with what must have been a half confused half scared look, for he soon began to calm down. Once he was composed enough to talk, though an occasional chuckle still managed to permeate his perfect lips, he placed a hand on my shoulder and looked me in the eyes… (Back into dreamland I go!)

"I apologize for having so obviously startled you; believe me when I say that it was not my intention." His eyes, newly moistened with tears of laughter, now sparkled with happy emotions. It was such a wondrous sight to see the light dance with in his eyes, like a passionate scene of a ballet. "It's just that not two minutes ago I was thinking of how pallid your skin pigment was (like you had never heard of the out doors, the thought!). But just now, even as I'm talking to you, the tinge of rose materializes so nicely within your cheeks that it was hard for me to believe that you had been so pale just moments before. Ah! That very color now again!"

I turned my entire body away from the beautiful man now. I had no doubt that I was blushing just as much as he described. After all, I had just made a complete fool of myself by letting this man get me flustered. Curtly, I stood up and attempted to make my escape. "If you don't mind Monsieur, I should probably talk with the managers. If no one intervenes, this fight may go on for some time…"

"All the better." I turned around and gave him a questioning look. He responded with a chuckle, and then replaced his hand in the pocket of his trousers. Nonchalantly, he said "I realized from the moment we stepped within the auditorium that this wasn't going to be the quick tour I was hoping for. Unfortunately I have other business to attend to, otherwise I'd gladly spend hours upon hours in this splendid work of art." He gazed around in appreciation before beginning again. "You are employed here, no?" I told him I was. "Splendid, do you believe you could possibly help complete what's left of the tour I was promised? I don't think they're going to be of much help to me." He made a gesture towards the manager's office, where the fighting continued to wage on.

I bit my bottom lip, a habit for when I'm nervous, and tried to think of a possible excuse to let him down gently. Its not that I didn't want to show him around (actually it kind of was… but that's not the main reason), but aside from my master everyone was out enjoying their day off. It seemed… improper for me to be alone with a handsome young man I hardly knew in the big opera house. 'Then again… why not? He seems friendly enough, more like a little lost puppy now that I think about it. Besides, you're not truly alone if _**he**_ is anywhere near…'

"Sure…where would you like to start?" The expression on his face was absolutely priceless. Every inch and every crevice of his face lit up in pure delight as an enormous smile, and what a smile it was. Unlike many, who when they smile with all their might they end up looking distorted and even slightly foreboding, his smile conveyed true happiness and appreciation. '_And the way those eyes stared…_'

Before I even had the common sense to snap myself out of my daze, he firmly grasped my hand and led me out of the hall and up the grand stair-case. "This is absolutely wondrous!" He exclaimed as he gazed around. I could understand his excitement, this was a particularly well decorated part of the house, and his childish antics made me chuckle and laugh every few seconds. One second he was admiring the smoothness of the marble, the next he was praising the detail carved in the golden banister. Though I did note with amusement that he seemed to be avoiding the golden statues of scantily clad women. **A/N: Yes, I'm going by the movie version****as many of ****have probably noticed by now. Deal with it)**

For the next hour I showed Monsieur De Fleur around the main parts of the opera house, the dancer's quarters, the prop room, the roof, I even showed him around some of the rafters. He acted as he had back on the stairs, you would think he had never seen an opera house in his life! Though at one point his amazement was getting a little old…

"And that's about it." We were walking back down the grand staircase, having just finished his brief tour. "There are a few more servants quarters and then of course the cellars, but other than that we've seen everything… I think."

"I must admit, I am shocked. The opera house is much smaller that it was conveyed to be…" He seemed to be thinking deeply now, which made me smile. In just the hour that I had known him I felt that we had already grown somewhat attached, like good friends who had not seen each other in years. With his face scrunched up like it was, he reminded me of one of those small dogs with wrinkled, squashed faces. (Granted he looked nothing like one, far from it.)

His eyes sparkled with mischief. "Well Ms. Um," I slapped him on the arm and he winced before laughing out. He had not been able to let that "um…" joke go. "Fine _Amaya_, I must concede that I am at a terrible loss for what to do. So I must ask you a question." He stepped really close and bent his face towards mine. I backed up and laughed, he already knew I hated getting physically to close to a person. Whatever game he was playing, I was ready for it.

"Bring it on you _Pansy_!" (**A/N: Props to Monty Python!) **I challenged, matching his playfulness with a hint of a challenge. "There's no question you can throw at me that I can't answer!" Vaguely, a song from a musical the opera house did a year or two ago popped into my mind. '_Anything you can do I can do better, I can do anything better than you!_'

"I'll test that some day." Michael responded and ruffled my hair like he would a small child who had asked a cute question. I pouted back at him, but got no other reaction other than a scoff. "But, my question now is simple." He closed the gap even more between us and stared me straight in the eye. "I know that you know why I'm here. So tell me, is the Opera Populair a wise investment or am I wasting my time?"

'_Shit__… too close!_' The closeness of our bodies truly made it hard for me to think. Closing my eyes in attempt to shut out our embarrassing proximity, I tried to gather my thoughts. _'Okay… what did he ask again? Wait… um… of course I know why he's here, that much is obvious. _(Rich guy happens to come while managers are searching for a new patron… not that hard to figure out.) _But is it a wise investment?__ The fear of the Opera Ghost has scared away a __lot of business… we haven't had a full house since opening day! Did we lose money, or was it enough? Oh, I wish I knew more about business affairs!!!'_

Daring to peek, I opened my left eye very slightly. Monsieur De Fleur was still just as close, if not closer, and seemed to find amusement in my discomfort. Inwardly I scowled, but I still could not ignore the butterflies that racked my stomach at the sight of his eyes. _'Eyes that I'll never be able to see again if he doesn't have a reason to return!' _The very thought sent a jolt of pain through my heart like a steel arrow. "Yes!!!" My sudden outburst startled him, and he even took a few steps back in surprise. With a little more breathing room between us, I was able to think about my embarrassing outburst. "What I mean is… um… well this is **the** Opera Populair! How is it that you can even ask that question?"

Brushing himself off un-necessarily, he overcame his shock and even managed to chuckle slightly. "Yes," he commented. "I suppose you're quite right." Looking up, he flashed another amazing smile and then extended his arm to me. "I think it's about time that we start heading back… do you agree?"

Blushing only slightly, which I was very proud of myself for, I accepted his arm and we began the slow walk back to the manager's office.

-------------------------- (TIME SKIPS… OOOOH WATCH IT GO BY!!!)-----------------------------

"I know your there, now come out or I swear…"

"Young ladies shouldn't swear; it's very unbecoming of them to do so."

"Oh ha-ha, you must find yourself very amusing."

"I do, as you yourself do I would imagine by the smile your failing to suppress."

"I'm only smiling because I'm imagining all the terrible places I can place your body when I'm done killing you for what you've just done." Despite myself, I felt my smile grow. Truly witty verbal combat was not my forte, I'd normally prefer sitting down in silence. However, this man… something in his normally enchanting voice infuriated me to the point of rebellion. Though no matter how mad I was… the master would always turn it into some sort of playful exchange of carefully chosen words. He was the only person I found that I truly couldn't hate.

"Tsk tsk tsk... what ever shall be done about such an out spoken young maiden?" There was a pause of silence which was only broken by the slightest sound of a cloak as he shifted his position in the room. He never liked to be in one place for too long… I never understood it. "Besides, there was nothing wrong with what I did. You were noticed, were you not?"

I frowned in response to his inquiry. "Yes, but I didn't want to be noticed!" I brought my knees up to my chest and looked out the window from my seat. Out side it was a nice breezy spring afternoon. Gently, I brought my hand to the glass and traced the outline of the extravagant carriage driven by white horses.

"Whether I intervened or not you would have been noticed." His mocking tone of voice had changed to that of a condescending one. "All I did was make you ready for when it did happen… and perhaps hasten the event. Still, I can not see that I did anything wrong at all."

"Then you obviously don't understand." I spoke softly now, but still glared daggers at the spot where I suspected he was. "I'm destined for life on the sidelines, in a corner. Always seen but not really known. I was happy like that."

"Then why did you except my offer?"

…**That **one I had to think about. Why did I accept? I guess his intent with our lessons has always been kind of clear, so why am I so surprised now? He chuckled again, my confusion must have amused him. "Ha-ha…very funny." I sighed in annoyance and waited until his voice died down before I continued. "I don't suppose that I could ask… or beg you to reverse this?"

"You could." He responded in such a way that I knew he was smirking still. "Not that it would do you much good. But I do grow bored…"

"No."

"Too bad…"

"…Somehow I get the feeling that you don't mean that."

"Clever child."

I stuck my tongue out at his suspected location and gave one last glare before I gave up. I hated being ruled by emotions… and anger was one of the worse (even fake witty conversation confused anger). "So what exactly did you do?"

"Excuse me?"

"The managers wouldn't have argued for two hours if they weren't debating something very serious, and most likely having to do with money." A suspicious silence accompanied my words along with the tell-tale empty feeling that signified his departure. I just rolled my eyes, having already suspected that this would happen.

Having no more reason to stay, I picked up my skirts and sneaked out of the room. Yet, upon exiting, I was surprised to feel his presence again. Only this time it was from somewhere in the shadows. "What now?" I asked. "Will you follow me to my dormitory, or will you just sulk there and pretend I don't know that your there?"

"Both are interesting options… but I only just forgot to ask something" A sudden pain struck my heart. Why did I care? I'll ponder it later.

"What is it?"

"What exactly did the managers decide to do with you?"

I paused, unsure of how to answer. (It might have helped if they had given me a definite answer in the first place.) "Honestly…" and technically "…nothing."

There was the briefest of pauses before he continued to speak. "They would be stupid enough to pass up such an opportunity?"

His comment seemed more aimed at himself, but I decided to answer anyways. "Well in their defense it's not like they out right rejected me, it's just that…"

**FLASH BACK TO MANAGERS OFFICE**

Though I didn't dare look up into their faces, I could tell that they were looking at me with expressions of confusion. I could almost hear their thoughts out loud. "What? Is she dumb? Is she deaf?"

I might as well have been.

As soon as I was allowed, I had stepped into the office, and the barrage of questions had begun. So far I had answered none. Every time I attempted a word, my mind spun with the possible repercussions and closed my throat. For all of my masters training, I had not gotten over my obscene meekness.

So here I was sitting and saying nothing while the managers expectant faces towered over me. Finally, I managed to squeak out, "I-I… I don't kn-know… what y-you mean." Sadly, I felt proud that I had managed to speak that much. However feeble they may be, those words were improvements.

"It's not that hard of a question my dear." One of the managers said rather desperately (I could not tell which, I was staring down at my shoes). "Considering your position as a ballerina, it is unusual that you should even have such a quality of voice."

"You're not even a chorus girl for god's sake!" The other manager shouted out for what seemed like the twentieth time. He was much more irate than his partner, and it clearly showed as his voice shook with rage.

An awkward silence ensued after this. I supposed that they were asking my confirmation of the stated fact, or perhaps waiting on my opinion of the entire situation. Alas, even as I attempted to open my throat to explain, it closed on me without conscious thought and refused to let me speak. _'What would you say?!'_ that rational voice in my head began. _'"Oh well I've been learning from a voice! __What was that? No, I'm sure the__r__e's a man, __the problem is that he's invisible because he's always hiding. _A wince that was supposed to remain in my head somehow became a physical one. _'Yea… that's going to go over really well…'_

"I…" I tried to begin to explain **something**, and eventually (after several minutes of awkward silence and several pitiful attempts at conversation) I managed only to mumble "I-"

"I believe she may feel more comfortable, gentle men if you please, if the poor thing could have some room to breath. You are being quite over-bearing." Reluctantly, the two managers backed off about a foot. Gratefully, I half turned around and muttered a 'thank you' to the astonishing man behind me. He just smiled and winked, then continued to speak. "Anyways gentle men, I do believe we are out of time for today." He gestured at the grandfather clock behind him right as it struck the next hour. "I must be off. I will return tomorrow evening to discuss the matters of the Opera Populair's next show." He took a few steps back and opened the door. "Good afternoon gentle men, m'lady." He nodded to each of us in turn and then stepped out of the room.

One or two minutes passed before I made an attempt to excuse myself just as gracefully… yeah like I could ever actually pull that off. "Just a moment young lady." I slowly turned around, fear gripping me once more. I could already feel my face blushing at whatever they were about to say, but what I saw on their faces surprised me.

They no longer looked frustrated or angry, instead it was as if they had made a horrid realization. Defeat mixed in with just a little bit of horror. Somewhere in my amazement, I managed to find my way back to my seat, though thankfully it seemed as if all the immediate pressure had disappeared along with Michael. "Just one more question…" Andre stated, his voice fluctuating and cracking to several octaves. "What play is that song you…you sang from?"

I looked at him blankly, and then looked back down. _'They're going to hate me for this… I just know it.'_ I took a deep breath in and then let it out in a slow sigh before I even dared to open my mouth. "Please believe me, I…" I choked slightly on the rest, and had to wait a moment for my nerves to calm before I continued. "I… I honestly and truly… don't know. Please forgive me." I bowed my head lower, partly in apology and partly in embarrassment, as the managers gave out groans of annoyance.

"This is just great!" Andre exclaimed as he stood up and paced across the room. "We finally find ourselves a patron, and now he's just going to walk out on us-"

"What do you mean?!" I shouted out with anxiety before I could stop myself. The managers looked at me with shock and confusion. I merely shrunk back into my chair again (the sheer amount of heat radiating off my face could probably fry an egg at the moment), but I did not look away. I thought I had avoided this crisis earlier, but now here it was staring me in the face again. I really did not want for him to feel the need to leave; this was worth the embarrassment that was sure to come. However, my voice still quieted when I spoke again. "What I mean is… err… why would he have a reason to leave?"

The managers still stared at me with perplexed faces, but they did not with hold their information. "Our next intended play was a dud." Firman spoke with a hint of malice. "If we were to show it, not even a beggar would come to watch." He finally sat and slouched down in his seat, running his hand over his face in frustration. "We have nothing else to show… not a clue."

…

…

"Well…" I began, already regretting what I was about to say,

**((END FLASHBACK))**

When I finally finished explaining to him what had happened, leaving out any and all of the more girly moments, he didn't speak for a while. I still felt his presence as I began to walk away however, so I assumed he was just thinking the situation over.

He finally spoke once I had entered my chambers and sat down on the small cot I had the pleasure of sleeping on every night. "So… basically you suggested to help them find a good sensible play before the end of the day and they were so desperate that they agreed?"

Distantly in my mind, I thought about how hearing an obviously male voice in a girl's room should be ringing scandalous bells of alarm in my head, but it really didn't bother me all that much. "Not necessarily…" I answered, laying my head down on my pillow and grabbing the small and cuddly little stuffed wolf (another relic from before I could remember) from the small stand by my cot.

"Monsieur De Fleur isn't due to return until eight o' clock tomorrow evening, and the library is only ten minutes away in town. Along with permission to skip the mornings practice, I have the rest of today and almost all morning and afternoon tomorrow." As I spoke I gently fingered the patches of the wolf's fur that had become stiff from time and affection.

"You're seriously going to go out and spend hours in the town's library just to find the origin of one song?" The voice was incredulous, almost like the very idea appalled him immensely. It might have, I truly didn't know.

"Yes…well, basically." Now I turned the wolf to face me and traced the outline of his remaining coal black button eye. "What else could I do?"

"How about asking the voice who taught you the song in the first place?"

"You know where it's from?" I asked, also sitting up and looking around expectantly. Though for what I wasn't quite sure.

"Of course." The voice was nonchalant, though with a tone of seriousness in it. "Why ever would I not know its source?"

"Why ever did you not alert me of this fact before hand?"

"You never asked."

I scowled and laid back again, this time keeping the wolf beside me. "So what is it?"

"What is what?" I growled and he chuckled. "It's from Jekyll and Hyde."

"What and what?"

He chuckled and just patiently explained the plot to me in that voice that made me want to sigh and scream all at once. Eventually I fell asleep, fully clothed, listening to him explain about the depth of each character's personalities and flaws.

By the end of the next day, the Opera Populaire had a show.

**(A/N: Wow… a lot more author notes than usual in this one huh? Well I just wanted to explain some things here. I know the ****actual book ****Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde**** doesn't even come out until around the time that all this is actually happening (give or take a decade) and the musical is so far off that it's newer than the original Broadway production of Phantom of the Opera. For the sake of my story however, please **_**let it go.**_** I really don't want people on my back yelling at how wrong my story is historically just because some events aren't in the correct chronological order. So just a warning: DO NOT FLAME ME BECAUSE OF THIS! I can deal with most everything else. 'Jekyll and Hyde' the musical does not belong to me… though I adore it immensely.)**


	5. Chapter 5

**(A/N: So another time skip… though not really as big. This is about a week after the last chapter ended. POV changes a little more often in this chapter, just make sure to keep up)**

It had begun with a simple invitation to tea…

The candle flames flickered wildly as Carlotta paced around the room. Her eyes were wide and intense, her hands and arms flailed wildly in many different directions. Her elaborate dress managed to slow her rampage slightly, but not even her breathlessness could halt the small monologue she delivered to those "incompetent excuses for managers."

"La Carlotta…" She began yet again, this time advancing on the two grown men as they cowered behind their tea cups. "…Does not share _her_ stage with _anyone_! Especially with some skinny little ninny who probably can't sing worth a…"

"B-b-but the show calls for t-t-two female roles!" Andre stuttered out bravely.

"Yes!" Firman almost shouted out, he had gained confidence from Andre's interruption. "You are absolutely wondrous La Carlotta, were it not for the play that has been chosen then we would not be asking this of you!"

"Then chose a different show!" Carlotta nearly screamed as she walked right up to Firman and pointed a pudgy finger into his chest. He winced as the nail dug into his skin, but showed no other sign of his discomfort. He even managed to not drop his smile as he gazed fearfully into her crazy eyes.

"We can't… it has already been approved by our newest patron."

"Then chose a different patron!"

"Madame, that is impossible! We were lucky to find Monsieur DeFleur when we did!"

"Then…" She turned her head away from the managers as she thought things out. A wicked smile crossed her face as a hasty plan formed in her mind. "Well than hopefully you can use that same luck to find yourself a new star, because this one," she pointed both thumbs into her chest, indicating she was talking about herself. "This star will not be performing with some little skank who thinks she can sing!" With that, she gathered her skirts around her, left through the door, and called her maids to fetch her belongings. She would wait in Italy for the opera house to ruin itself.

It took a few minutes for both managers to realize what had just occurred, but once both of their minds had caught up with the situation they also realized that it would be too late for them to stop the diva now. Ever since she had come back, her possessions and clothes have been pre-packed, ready for her should she decide to leave.



"Well," Andre sighed as both he and Firman collapsed into the couch. "What in God's name are we supposed to do now?"

Tiredly, Firman gave his partner a dry look. "I blame you for this." He stated casually.

Andre returned the coldness of his partners gaze. "You realize of course, that you are not helping the situation." Firman shrugged and cut himself a generous slice of coffee cake from the peaceful tea time which now seemed like an eternity ago. Coldness slowly turned into astonishment as Andre watched his friend's unusual behavior. "How can you be so calm in a situation like this?!"

Just as calm as before, Firman pointed to the table. Upon the polished wood sat a small folded piece of paper. It was not _his _usual style, but perhaps he felt it unnecessary to go through so much effort to convey such a simple message.

**AMAYA'S POV**

Morning… or really mid-morning, afternoon-ish.

Once again, we had the day off so that Madame Giry could revue the music along with Monsieur Reyer. This meant, for me at least, _much_ more sleep along with more time to do what ever I wanted. So I did what I haven't been able to do since the opera house had been rebuilt. I slept till the sun was high in the sky (only getting up because of the intense hunger cramps which racked my stomach), ate a fairly large lunch (alone of course), took a luxuriously long and warm bath, and then subjected my head to the usual torture.

I scowled into the mirror. My gaunt and pale reflection scowled back, my slightly uneven teeth giving my grimace somewhat of a twisted look. With the aid of a fine bristled comb, I slowly brushed the unsightly knots out of my unruly hair. Not for the first time did the hairs tug and pull so at my scalp that I was tempted to scream bloody murder and be done with it, and not for the first morning was I tempted to cut my hair in the style of a man's. Wanting to do something different, I took a simple brown ribbon and tied a loose ponytail at the nape of my neck. Then I took another fifteen minutes to flatten the hair so that I would not look like one unruly tangle attached to my head.

"So much fuss, lost upon an unsightly girl." I grimaced again at the reflection in the mirror. "No," I corrected myself as I gave more thought into my appearance. Though I had succeeded in detangling and flattening my hair, with out the long strands visible over my shoulder, I looked more like an adolescent boy. "Not even like a good looking boy…"

Sighing in defeat, I freed the hair strands from their fabric prison. Instead, I tied the ribbon around my arm, creating an intricate bracelet that wound up my left arm. It pleased me 

better than tying my hair back had done. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of the washroom. Finally ready to face what was left of the day.

"Took you long enough." His voice sent chills down my spine and I had to cover my mouth to muffle the embarrassing squeak I felt arising in my throat. He was the last voice I expected to hear at the moment. Lately he had been so busy with other matters, I barely heard from him. "Did I scare you little one? I thought that by now you would be accustomed to my comings and goings…"

"I thought you said that you had important matters to settle today!" I gasped as I tried to pin point where he was.

"They took care of themselves." He replied simply. I was confused by his answer, and was tempted to ask him to elaborate the meaning. However, what little knowledge I had of the master kept me from voicing my curiosity. He likes his secrets.

"How long have you been waiting?" I asked instead.

"You were still in the washroom when I got here." The door! He was somewhere over by the door.

I sat on the bed and gazed in his general location. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"You need more practice."

"Excuse me?"

"I thought I made my point quite clear. If you need it explained in a blunter manner than I am afraid I have greatly overestimated your intelligence."

"No I got what you meant; it was your bluntness itself that made me feel slightly insulted. Also… don't you think that was a little unnecessary? It hurt a little."

"I'm sorry, I did not mean to offend."

"Apologies don't count as much when you lie."

"And if I truly did not mean to offend?"

"Then you are not the master I know, but rather a weak clone or imposter."

"Clever child." His dark chuckles echoed throughout the empty dorm. "None the less, what I said before stands true still. Meet me in the Chapel within the half hour."



"When I get there will you explain to me what this is all about?"

… No answer, he had already gone. Sighing in defeat, I began the long walk to the small gothic chapel. Hoping that I would not be kept long in the dark.

**CHRISTINE'S POV**

"Once upon a time…" I began. The prelude to every fairy tale on earth it seems. Beside me, the du Bois twins stared up at me with identical starry blue eyes. "… There was a beautiful man who fell in love with a beautiful woman. So much so were these two in love, that they decided to marry" Accordingly, the twins sighed. Marriage, every young girl's dream.

"After they were married a few years, the beautiful woman became heavy with child. Sadly, she was taken by the lord on the day her daughter was born. The beautiful man was stricken with grief, but tried his best to raise the little girl that his wife had died to give birth to. Sadly, it was not many years later that the beautiful man died as well. 'Of a broken heart', the doctor proclaimed." I took a breath and analyzed my audience's attentiveness. Both girls sat primly side-by-side, eagerly awaiting the rest of the story.

"The little girl was taken in by a friend of her father's, and raised in an opera house where she learned to sing and dance. As the girl grew, she became more and more beautiful. Soon, it was even said, her beauty rivaled that of the most beautiful girl born into privilege. And it was not long…" Here I purposely paused for a long time. The girls drew in closer, anxious for me to complete the sentence. "…Before she fell in love.

"Her love was a handsome, but rich Vicomte who she had been a child hood playmate to before her father had died. He in turn loved her, very much. Together, their love was like the kinds of things that only seemed real in fairytales." Again the girls sighed in happiness. "Oh, if only the two could have married and expressed their love to each other freely! But alas, it was never to be so. For you see," I drew closer to the girls, as if to tell a secret. Accordingly, they drew ever closer to me. "Another very powerful man loved the maiden as well."

The girls gasped at the sudden turn in events, but were silenced by one look from their mother. In turn, I received my own disapproving look. 'Think all the ill you may.' I thought to myself. 'This night belongs to me.' Turning back to the girls, I continued the story.

"This other man was very different from her beloved Vicomte. He was quick tempered, unpleasant, and extremely hideous. Most of all however, he was insanely jealous. In order to keep the girl away from her love, he kidnapped her and hid her away from the world in his home underground." The girls now clung to each other, fully engrossed in the story despite my attempts at making the narration as vague as I could. 'A lesson well learnt,' I noted in my mind. 'Never underestimate the power of children's imagination.'



"The girl's love fought valiantly to save her from the clutches of the other man…" I decided to skip over the more complicated details before I got in any more trouble with the girls' mother for filling their heads with scandalous stories. "And eventually, he succeeded in vanquishing the evil doer and rescuing the damsel."

Kendall, one of the twins, sighed in joy. However, her sister Gretel fixed me with an almost confused look. "And…?"

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. And they were married within the month. A big wedding that was attended by everyone, for the couple was loved by all."

"And…?"

"I'm sorry?"

"And they lived…"

I felt a lump in my throat and made another mental note, this time never to underestimate the innocence and naivety of children. 'It's only words,' I told myself. 'Go ahead and say it.' I took a deep breath. "And… they l-"

"Dearest," a soft tap at my shoulder alerted me to the presence of Raoul behind me. I turned around to meet his face, that wonderful face which had lost neither its boyishness nor its optimism despite all that happened. "Dearest, it is time to say good bye to the guests."

Compliantly, I allowed him to walk me to the door. There I stood for the next fifteen minutes as guest after guest, a mass of unknown faces and facades, passed through the door. Last of all was the du Bois family. Eagerly, the twins ran up to me and kissed me on both cheeks. "Next time," Gretel said with a smile. "You must finish the story for real."

"I'll do the best I can" I replied smiling, though inwardly hoping against hope that there would be no next time.

"Next time, you must sing us a story!" Kendall cried in joy and her sister squealed in agreement. With enthusiastic eyes, they turned to me. It almost killed me to do it, but I shook my head, no.

"You girls know that I can not do that, I'm very sorry." I closed the door silently behind them, the click of the lock like the fall off the first domino in a wave of emotion.

First one, then two, and then before I had the common sense to calm down, I broke down in tears. I should not have told _that_ story, I should not have. "For the way it really ends, is not with a 'happily-ever-after.'" I had no worry of my husband overhearing me, he had gone up to bed somewhere around Monsieur and Madame Goodman. By now, he would be sound asleep between silken sheets.



Feeling broken, and aged beyond my years, I dragged myself through the marble hallways. Stopping at a mirror, I stared at my reflection. So much had I aged is just a year, how depressing!

"This is the real way the story ends," I said to the mirror. "The maiden and the Vicomte are happy for a while, but all too soon she realizes the issue with marrying your childhood sweetheart. Children grow up." A new wave of tears threatened to spill over my eyes, but I held them in for as long as I possibly could. "And worst of all, the maiden realized that she had made a terrible mistake in choosing the Vicomte, for…for…for…oh god…what have I done?"

Here I could not continue, sobs racked my body so that I was forced to fall against the wall. The tears poured out of my eyes in endless torrents of salty melancholy. Very slowly, I managed to gradually calm myself down. The breakdown had left me extremely exhausted, and before the tears could stop, I was asleep on the cold marble floor. And there I would stay till morning.

**AMAYA'S POV**

I drank ceaselessly from the large glass of water that had been allowed to me, yet still it seemed as if all the freshwater on earth could not satisfy my thirst. My throat burned, as if on fire, and in my present condition I could neither sing nor talk with out an inappropriate croaking sound wrenching from my throat.

"Excellent progress, shall we take a break now and continue in a half hour?"

I gave the wall a dry look. "We've been practicing for over four hours now…" I croaked. The pain forced me to take another swallow of water before I continued. "Do you really think I'll be able to…?" I finished the water and looked disdainfully at the glass.

A brief moment of time elapsed before he gave his answer. "Perhaps I have pushed you a little too hard…" his sentence trailed off as a wheezing cough issued its way out of my throat. After a minute or two, I was able to regain control of my airways and he was allowed to continue. "Very well, you are dismissed for today. However, return tomorrow as soon as Madame Giry releases you."

I held in my groans as I nodded my head stiffly. I had not the voice to argue, nor the will power. "As you wish master." I croaked along with a curtsy. "However, may I ask one question?"

"You already have. Proceed anyways."

"Why the urgency?"



There was a slight pause, a frustrated mumble, and the sound of him shifting to another spot in the room. "One of my plans is not going exactly as I thought it would." He shifted, but only a few steps away it seemed this time. "Those idiotic excuses for managers were, for once, all too quick to react to my advice."

I made a confused expression, not caring whether he saw or not. (Though I have a strange suspicion that he did indeed.) "So?" I asked. "Shouldn't that be a good thing?"

Dark laughter pervaded the room and seemed to come from everywhere at once. "Your naivety can be astounding sometimes my dear young pupil." I glared in his direction, and was awarded with more laughter. "Yes, in any other occasion this might be a wonderful thing… however their actions only force us to quicken our pace."

"…What exactly have you done?"

"…"

**(TIMESKIP: ONE WEEK LATER)**

**CHRISTINE'S POV **

Watching carefully to make sure no one was paying too much attention to me; I rubbed the part of my neck which was still sore from my rough night on the floor. However, seeing as how my actions only seemed to make the pain worse, I stopped and continued my business through the busy market place. The crowded evening bustle was a relief from the oppressing silence at home.

"Home…" I whispered and thought to myself bitterly. The place where I lived now had not seemed like any _home_ in a long time. 'Hell is more like it…'

I took a brief longing glance toward my old home, the opera house, in all its new and spectacular glory. The new model was not very different than the older once, other than the now comically wide entrance and exit doors.

'Wait… the doors…' Something white on those doors reflected sunlight and caught my eye. I crossed the street, not caring at how the coach drivers cursed my reckless actions, and walked up the steps I had not dared to set foot on for over a year. The white thing had been a paper, a notice. My breath caught as I read what it said.

Attention!



Les citoyens de Paris, est maintenant votre heure de briller ! L'opéra Populair tient actuellement des AUDITIONS OUVERTES pour son plus nouveau chef d'oeuvre. ET TOUS EN SONT BIENVENUS !

Les auditions sont le vendredi 13 juillet à 16:30

Nous recherchons deux fils femelles et un masculins.

Sincèrement,

Missures Firman & Andre

(Translation:

Attention!  
Citizens of Paris, now is your time to shine! The Opera Populair is currently holding OPEN AUDITIONS for its newest masterpiece. ANY AND ALL ARE WELCOME!

Auditions are Friday, July 13 at 16:30 4:30 pm

We are looking for two female and one male lead.

Sincerely,

Missures Firman & Andre)

My mouth formed the words "Open Audition" but no sound came out. Suddenly, I was caught up in a cyclone of inner turmoil.

"This could be exactly what you're looking for!" One inner voice screamed. "Your new life is hell, so why not return to the old one?"

"No!" Cried another. "_He_ has to be behind this somehow! It's a trap!"

"Besides," Another voice chimed in. "Look at the date, the auditions are _today._ Do you really think you're ready for something like this so suddenly?"

As the turmoil escalated into full out war, I looked at the time. "Three thirty…" If I was going to make a decision I was going to have to make it fast.

A traitorous inner voice, one that sounded exactly like _him_ chuckled darkly in my mind. "What will you do now, dearest Christine? What oh what will you now…"

**(A/N: No, Christine is not going crazy. She's just experiencing one of those moments where she argues with herself in her mind. And don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about, everyone has had those moments before a hard decision where they argue back and forth with themselves. What's with the notice in French I hear some of you ask? Honestly, I don't know. I think this is the first chapter that I finished at a reasonable time in the afternoon. Blame summer boredom. Anyways, thanks for sticking with me! )**


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